Behind Brown Eyes: Sorcerer's Stone
by Solla Sollew
Summary: Obviously, the Harry Potter series is told in Harry's eyes. But, what if they were told throughout someone else's? Sorcerer's Stone version.
1. Ever So Suprised

Behind Brown Eyes: The Sorcerer's Stone

I don't own Harry Potter- and neither do you- ha-ha

Ever So Surprised

"The answer is twelve."

"Correct, Ms. Granger." Said Ms. Swanson a she began to erase the problem off the board. Hermione smiled. Even she had trouble with that problem. Arithmetic normally came pretty easy to her, but that one stumped her for a little while. No matter. That question was over, and her teacher was writing a new one on the board.

"Man, what a nerd…" Hermione nearly broke her pencil as she heard the two boys whispering behind her. By this point, it wasn't anything new. Kids always seemed to make fun of her for being a little on the geekish side. It didn't matter much.

_Because, one day, I'm going to show them all; just wait and see._

It was that small, vague, childish fantasy that kept Hermione's eyes dry even through the most brutal teasing. She also knew that, in one more year, she'd be done with primary school. Her cousin was already in secondary school. The kids there were much more mature, and she knew that she wouldn't get teased as much.

Finally, after a few more hours of arithmetic, history, and science, the bell rang that dismissed her class for lunch. Everyone, including Hermione, dashed out as fast as possible, eager for a chance to get outside and away from classes. As usual, the girl sat against the wall with her sack lunch and began to eat.

"Hey, Hermione." She looked up to see her best friend, Susan, looking down at her. She smiled and scooted over to make room for her.

"Hi, Susan." Hermione's brown bag crinkled as she opened it to examine its contents. Susan was doing the same with hers.

"So, you want to hang out after school today?" Susan asked as she began to unwrap her sandwich.

"Can't, I have a dentist appointment today. You going to finish those cookies?"

"Mione, that's the second time this month! Don't most people go every six months? Can I have a pretzel?"

"Yes, well, when both your parents are dentists, and your teeth look like this," She smiled to show her crooked buck teeth, "you go a little more than normal people."

Susan nodded. After food was exchanged, and future shopping plans were made, lunch proceeded on as normal. The two girls talked about summer plans, homework, and cute boys. And, soon enough, it was time to go back to class.

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"Very soon, Hermione, you're going to need braces."

" 'Ad, oo've 'een 'aying that or 'ears." At the moment, her mouth was full with spit drainers and water hoses. The bright lights coming from the lamp were blinding her. Her brown, bushy hair was flying in every direction and cushioning her head a lot better than that sorry excuse for a pillow attached to the chair was. While she was used to dental procedures, she hated them so much. They were time consuming, and just plain annoying. And, lucky for her, she had a smile that basically sold her to a lifetime in, "the chair." But, this time was just a quick session, so she was free faster than usual.

"Oh, Hermione."

"Yes, father?"

"A letter came for you in the post this morning. We're not sure who it's from, so we didn't open it. Ask your mother about it, okay?"

"Sure." Now excited, Hermione made her way out of her parent's office and to her house just a few blocks away. Once she was inside, she bolted into the kitchen.

"Afternoon, mum, dad says that there was a letter for me?"

"Hello, Hermione, I have it right here." Her mother went to the stack of mail from this morning and began leafing through it until she came upon a very old looking letter. The envelope looked as if it was four hundred years old. And, when Hermione turned it around, it had a seal made of red wax with a strange symbol pressed in the likes of which she'd never seen before. Puzzled, she opened the letter:

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**

_**of**_** WITCHCRAFT **_**and**_** WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

_**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, **_

_**Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) **_

**Dear Ms. Granger,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall **

_**Deputy Headmistresses**_

Hermione read and reread the letter at least four times to make sure she was reading this right. Was there really such a place? Was she really magic? After reading the letter for the tenth time, Hermione did something very unexpected.

Hermione began to cry.

Seeing tears in her daughter's eyes, Hermione's mother ran up to her and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"Honey, what's wrong."

"It's those stupid boys at school! I bet they wrote this to make fun of me! I knew they were mean, but this is just too low! How could they?"

"What does the letter say?" Hermione gave the letter to her mother, who read it almost as many times as she did. Then she gave her daughter a smile.

"Well, I don't know who wrote this. But, don't you worry about it." She tore up the letter and tossed it into the rubbish bin.

The next day at school, Hermione was putting her books away when she saw the two boys who were calling her a nerd the other day. Instantly, her head was filled with anger. She still hadn't forgotten about that stupid letter they mailed her yesterday. Blinded by anger, she stormed up to the boys.

"Hey, guys! You have some nerve, sending me that letter and all. I knew you guys were jerks. But to do something like that was low even for you guys. How could you?" For about twenty seconds, the boys just stared at her with confused faces. Then, one of them, whose name was Mike, finally spoke.

"What are you talking about?"

"Yea," responded the other boy, whose name was Steve, "we didn't send you any letter. Honest. You're not worth the time."

Hermione blinked. They didn't send her the letter?

"Are you guys sure?"

"Honest, now go away."

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur for Hermione. She could barely keep her mind on her lessons. Her mind was wrapped around one thing and one thing only. Who had sent her the letter? There was no way that school was real.

…Was it?

------------------------------------

"Mum, I'm home."

"Hello, sweetie," Mrs. Granger said as she walked into the hall and kissed her daughter's cheek. "How was your day?"

"Fine," she replied. However, her voice suggested otherwise.

Mrs. Granger sensed her daughter's distress and got down on her knees. Her eyes met Hermione's nose. "What's the matter?"

Hermione paused, unsure how to answer. "Well, it's just…the boys in school didn't write that letter. They say they didn't, and I trust them. I really want to know who did. It's becoming quite a bother. Once I know, I'll be a little less upset. At least then I'll have someone to blame. It may seem weird, but knowing who did it will make me feel better."

Mrs. Granger just smiled and gave Hermione a one-armed hug in such a fashion that only mothers seem to know how to do. "Don't you fret over it. The sooner you can get it out of that smart little head of yours, the better. Now, let's have a snack, shall we?" She placed a hand on Hermione's back and led her to the kitchen. Once there, Mrs. Granger offered her daughter an apple and some water. They sat down at the table and began talking about how their days went. Hermione was pleased to announce to her mother that she (once again) got the highest grade in the class on the science test they took last week. Her mother wasn't surprised, yet pleased all the same.

"Susan and I were planning on going shopping some time this week," said Hermione as she went to refill her glass in the sink.

"That's fine. You just can't do it on Friday. Your grandmother's coming over."

"Sure, mom. No pro-" before Hermione could finish her thought; a loud crack was heard throughout the kitchen. Mrs. Granger screamed. Hermione's water glass flew out of her hand and broke against the hardwood floor. The glass shards went unnoticed.

However, the Granger family had a much bigger issue than a few pieces of broken glass. For, standing in between mother and daughter was an old woman with grey hair with frizz to stand up to Hermione's, and blue, distant eyes that seemed to be eyeing random things like the coffee mug and toaster with enormous excitement.

"Hello!" The strange woman smiled as her for the first time since she arrived, fixed her stare on Mrs. Granger. "Sorry I'm late; I had to help Arthur find his wand, again. Poor dear, he loves muggle items so much. I don't mind him tinkering with things at his own home. But, he just _had_ to test his new coffee maker today. Of course, his wand rolled under the counter and just _had _to land on the tile that sends whatever lands on it wherever it feels like. I felt so bad for the dear; I spent the past two hours trying to help him. Turns out in was just outside the Undersecretary's office. Let me tell you, it's more intimidating to go there than it is to go to Fudge himself. Anyway, I should start by—"

"Telling us who the hell you are and what exactly it is you're doing here?" Mrs. Granger, by this point, had gone over to Hermione and embraced her close for protection.

It took the strange woman a moment to contemplate what Mrs. Granger was asking. She seemed terribly confused. "Well, don't you know?"

"Why on earth would we know?!" Mrs. Granger asked, trying…and failing, to control her temper. "You just explode into our kitchen and expect us to accept it like it's an every day habitual action?!"

The woman still didn't understand. "But, why don't you know. Didn't you receive the letter?"

There was a pause. "What letter?" There was less anger in Mrs. Granger's voice this time.

"You didn't get one? Why, no wonder you're so confused! Owls these days, they're so unreliable! Can't trust them as far as you can throw them. They always get their paths mixed up. You'll ask for a letter to be sent down the street, and it'll bring it to Norway! Anyway, I'm digressing. Don't worry; I brought another copy in case a situation like this occurred. Now, where did I put it…?" She began to rummage through her many coat pockets. Mrs. Granger still had her arm wrapped around Hermione, but it wasn't as tight of a grip. Finally, after a few awkward minutes, she pulled a tattered piece of parchment out of some pocket or another with a triumphant look on her face.

"Ah-ha! Here it is, I just knew I'd find it! Here you are, love." Hermione was unsure whether it was safe to accept the letter. Was it safe? She looked at her room for guidance, and was reassured when she gave her daughter an approving nod. Once she took the letter in her hand, she nearly gasped in surprise. It was addressed the same as the letter from before, right down to the strange way the H was written. There was no way, could it? Her hands shaking, she slowly flipped the letter around. To her shock and dismay, she found the red wax seal, imprinted with the same crest. Shaking, she opened the letter. It read the exact same thing as the one before."

"Um…there must be a mistake. We got this already…"

"And you still didn't know I was coming? That's weird. There should've been a note attached alerting you I was to come today around one. However, like I said, I got held up. No wonder you're both in a fluster! Well, at least you read the letter. You are so lucky! I loved Hogwarts myself! I was a Hufflepuff. I wonder what house you'll be in."

Hermione didn't know what to do. She had to be joking, right? Someone put her up to this. There was no possible explanation that…

"Look, lady. I don't know who you think you are, or why you and your gang of friends are harassing my daughter like this. But, no one finds it funny. So, why don't you gust take your stupid letter and-"

"Mum, wait." Hermione interrupted. For the first time, she released herself from her mother's grasp and looked straight at the woman in the room.

"How did you get here?"

"Hermione, I'm not sure that's very important…"

"Trust me, mum. Now, would you be so kind as to answer the question."

"Of course!" the woman seemed very eager to explain. "I just simply apperated. Well, I shouldn't say simply. It's very hard magic. One could lose an arm…or a leg…or ever their whole torso! There's this rumor around the ministry that this one poor bloke left his head behind when he tried to apperate from his office to his son's friend's house. The poor kids were only seven. What a horrible sight that must've been, to see their father like that. There are some people who won't even take their apperating test because of stories like that. Of course, the worst I've ever done was leave my hat behind one time. But, lucky for me, my mum brought it with her when she apperated. But, still, one must be very careful."

Hermione thought about that. "So, your saying that it's not all fun and games…being a witch and all. No running around casting spells left and right."

"Oh, heavens, no! It takes practice, diligence, and a lot of hard work. It isn't for everyone. I've heard about people who just simply gave up magic because of the pressure. That's why we have these schools. This way, the kids can learn about the spells they can do in a safe environment before going out into the real world. You'd have to work for _hours_ to master some of the spells. I remember I once stayed up all night for a single charm. I can tell you know it's not going to be easy. Oh, but it's so much fun! Don't let a little hard work stand in your way. Albus Dumbledore never did, and look where he is now!"

The blank stares from Hermione and Mrs. Granger showed that they didn't.

"Right, anyway. It's hard, love. But, oh, it's so worth it!"

Hermione thought about it for a minute. "Okay, I'd love to."

"Wonderful!"

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger interjected. "What on earth are you saying? We know nothing about this. For all we know, it could just be some hoax. Remember how upset you were yesterday when you thought those boys sent the letter-"

"But, they didn't!" Hermione replied, "And, if they really wanted me to fall for this, they would've tried to make it seem as wonderful as possible, to get my hopes up! This woman didn't sugar coat anything. Which, in my mind, _proves_ that it's real." She crossed her arms, proud of her answer. Her mother paused, then walked up to the woman.

"Can you tell me a little more about this school? Without Hermione, if you please."

"But, mum!"

"Hermione, I want to talk to her in private. Go do your homework, or read or…something. I just need to be alone with this woman."

She didn't look happy, but Hermione made her way to her room. She could hear voices coming from the kitchen. But, she couldn't make out what they were saying. Why wouldn't her mum want her in the room? What could be _that_ important?

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Hermione, could you come down here?"

_It's about time. I've been waiting for two hours! _Hermione hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. The woman was still there.

"Yes, mum?"

"Well, after a lot of talking. I've decided that we'll wait for your father and talk to him. If he thinks it's safe, then we'll allow it."

Hermione's eyes brightened. "Really? Oh, thank you, mum!" She gave her mother a hug. Mrs. Granger laughed.

"Alright, go off and play now until your father gets home, okay?"

Hermione nodded. Her father was due home in half an hour or so anyway. She wouldn't have to wait for long. She was so excited, she could hardly take it. But, would her father allow it? He's been strict in the past. But, mum was always stricter. If that woman could convince mum, it was almost a done deal.

-----------------------------------------------

"I'm home!"

"Father! Father! I've got great news! Well, actually, mum wants to tell you, but it has to do with me. You're never going to believe it. There's this woman here, she exploded through thin air! I thought it was a joke but if you say it's okay…"

"Slow down, Hermione. You're not making any sense. One step at a time. What exploded?"

"Perhaps it would be best if it explain it." Mrs. Granger came into the entrance hall to greet her husband.

"Hello, love. What's Hermione talking about?"

"Well…it's complicated. Hermione, your father and I want to-"

"Got it, okay." She wasn't happy, but Hermione was once again banished to her room. She lied down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. How long was this going to take? She could understand why'd they'd be skeptical. Even she had some doubts in the back of her mind. An all magic school? It is very out there. But, she believed this woman. She must admit, it was unlike her to believe such strange and illogical like this. But, she really thought it was true.

Time passed slower then Hermione thought possible. One hour…two…three. What could be taking so long?

Finally, a little after 7:30, Hermione was summoned back into the kitchen. When she walked in, her father walked up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Did you have any idea that you had magic?"

"No, none at all. That's why I was unsure at first. It's strange, really."

Her father nodded. "Well, I'm not sure about it. But, I guess I'll allow you to go. After hearing about it, I guess it's okay. But, if we take her out to buy her things and what you say isn't real, Hermione isn't allowed anywhere near this so-called school." He was addressing the other woman at this point.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really, oh, thank you ever so much, father!" She gave him the biggest hug she could.

"So, how does it feel to be a witch?" The strange woman asked.

There was a pause before Hermione could find the right, or any words, to answer with. "Well, to say the least, I'm ever so surprised."


	2. Street Smarts

Street Smarts

The rest of the school year seemed to fly in front of Hermione's eyes. It was hard breaking the news to Susan, but they both promised to keep in touch. Finally, the term was over, grades were given (all A's, as usual), good-byes were passed, and cheers were heard throughout the halls. While Hermione didn't overreact to summer break like most other students did, she was by far the most excited.

That following Saturday, both her parents had the day off, it was decided that that would be the day the family travels to London to find the Leakey Cauldron, and therefore Diagon Alley.

When the day finally came, Hermione was so excited that she could barely eat. Today was every eleven-year old girl's fantasy. She was going to go to a magical fantasy land. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had decided to call for a cab instead of driving. This was probably better, seeing as they had no idea where the Leaky Cauldron was. When it finally pulled up to the driveway, Hermione dashed in and almost had the driver leave without her parents.

"Do you know where the Leaky Cauldron is?" Mrs. Granger asked as she slid herself into the car.

"Yea, I've heard of it. It's in London."

"We need to go there."

The driver scanned the contents of the backseat. "Are you sure it's okay for her to go there? The Leaky Cauldron is a pub for the pretty heavy drinkers. I don't think it was meant for kids her age."

Mr. Granger gave his wife an uneasy look from the front seat. But, when she nodded at him, he looked at the driver. "It's okay. We're…meeting her uncle there. Then we're just going around London."

Normally, any eleven-year old would be wondering why her dad said that. And then proceed to tell everyone in the car what they were _really_ doing. But, Hermione was smarter than that. She was wall aware of when to talk, and when to sit there silently. Only half convinced, the driver pulled out into the road and down to London.

The drive took a little about half an hour, but they finally arrived at a small, beat up pub in the middle of a London street. Hermione was sure that if she wasn't looking for it, she wouldn't have found it in a million years.

"Well, there it is, The Leaky Cauldron in London. Tell your uncle I said hi, will ya?"

Hermione smiled and nodded as she was led by her parents into the pub. Just like the outside, the inside was old and beat up. The tables looked as if they may snap in two. An old style fire lit in the back kept the entire place lit and warm. Needless to say, there was group of people huddled around it. Hermione found herself clutching her arms for warmth herself. Even thought it was summer, this place could make any day seem like the dead of winter. Slightly scared, she held onto her mother tighter as they made their way to the bar. The bartender was an older man who looked like he was having a bad day.

"What can I get for you? Firewhiskey? A Butterbeer for the girl?" He motioned to Hermione, who only held on to her mother tighter. Mrs. Granger smiled.

"No, thank you. Actually, about a week ago, we received a letter in our post telling us to come here. Tell me, does this look slightly familiar to you?" She pulled one of the unopened copies of the letter out of her purse and handed it to the bartender. He carefully examined it, before turning to the back. Sure enough, the red wax seal was there with the strange crest. It was all he needed to see. He gave the letter back and scanned the family up and down.

"You're muggles, aren't you?" Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at the man with very confused faces.

"I'm sorry?" Mr. Granger asked, trying not to sound like a complete idiot.

"You must be muggles, if you don't know what they are. Muggles are what we call non magic folk." It took Hermione a few minutes to work that out. Then she looked up at the bartender.

"Does that mean you're…you're a wizard?" The man looked down at her and nodded. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement. She had met her first wizard! She looked around the pub. Where all these people wizards? Or were some of them…how did he say…muggles? It was impossible to tell. The bartender turned back to Hermione's parents.

"I'm guessing you'll need to be getting to Diagon Alley?"

"That's what the letter said."

"Very well. Oy, Joe!" The bartender motioned over to a quiet man sitting in the corner of the bar with a glass of who-knows-what in his hand. He raised his head as he heard his named called.

"Ai?"

"We got a muggle-born who needs to get to Diagon Alley. Can you take her and her parents?"

The man nodded, "Ai." He stood up and motioned for the family to follow him. Mrs. Granger turned back to the bartender.

"Thanks."

"Sure," he said as he began to clean a glass, "Oh and, you're going to want to stop at Gringotts first. It's the bank. They don't accept muggle money at a single shop there." Mrs. Granger nodded her thanks as they began to follow Joe. He led them to the back of the bar and through a door that read, "Employees only." Once through, Hermione began to look around.

"Is this it?" All she saw was a small alley with a large brick wall on the other side and a rubbish bin to her left. Joe shook his head. He then reached for the pocket inside his coat and pulled out what appeared to Hermonie as a large, polished stick. How could that feeble little stick do anything? But, then he began to tap random bricks. Hermione counted them to herself.

_Three up and two across from that rubbish bin._

"Stand back." The entire family took a few steps back as Joey used the stick to tap one of the bricks three times. Instantly, the brick begin to wiggle and move. Then, it went away. Other bricks followed in this pattern. And soon, there was a humongous archway leading to an entire new world. Hermione was in shock.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley."

Hermione was sure she was dreaming. There was no way this all could be real. Even from where she was standing, she could see a few small shops selling strange items. As if in a dream, she stepped through the arch with her family, and watched as the wall closed up again. Now that she was fully inside, it was even more amazing. Brooms were cleaning storefronts by themselves without humans controlling them. Witches and wizards were debating prices of dragon livers ("It shouldn't be more than five sickles!") in bright colored robes. Store owners were convincing people to buy self stirring cauldrons ("Sure, it costs more, but think of all the pain you endure from having to stir yourself!"). She was truly in a fantasy land.

"Ok," her mom said, reading off the list that they were sent, "the bartender said to go to Gringotts first. Wonder where that is?"

"I believe I found it." Mr. Granger pointed out a humongous white marble building which overpowered all the other shops. Excited as ever, Hermione broke into a run up to the bank. Once she climbed up the marble stairs, her eyes were drawn to the silver doors with something inscribed in them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Hermione gulped. That didn't sound too happy. What on earth could be down there? Dragons? Orgers? Or monsters the likes she never heard of? Feeling a little more nervous now, she walked into the bank with her parents. Inside were hundreds of little, strange men counting coins, weighing stones, and doing other strange things. Hermione didn't know what they were, but she was sure they weren't human.

She and her parents began to walk down the long hall, looking for what they needed. Finally, they found a desk with the sign:

**Muggle Money Transactions**

**Goblin in charge: Kindol**

Hermione did all she could not to gasp in surprise. These strange men were goblins! Her mouth bore a huge grin as her parents walked up to the counter.

"Hello, we need to, how you say, exchange muggle money." The goblin eyed them strangely, and then put away the parchment he was writing on.

"Very well, let me see your money." Mr. Granger fished through his wallet and pulled out 500 pounds.

"That should be enough, right?" The goblin counted the money. "It'll do. Wait here." Kindol left his post for a few minutes, and them came back with a big filled with strange coins the likes of which Hermione had never seen.

"This is wizard money. The gold ones are Galleons, silver are Sickles, and the bronze ones are called Knuts; twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, and seventeen sickles to a Galleon. Any questions?" They all shook their heads. "Good, now, if you don't mind, I'm very busy." He then went back to writing and left the Granger family to stare at the strange bag they just received.

"Well, come on, Hermione. We better go and buy your things." They left Gringotts and started walking down the streets of Diagon Alley. When they got back to the area with the brick wall, Mrs. Granger looked down at her daughter.

"Honey, I'm sorry, but your father and I have some things we need to do around London. You can shop around here on your own, right? It seems pretty small. Just keep your cell phone on, okay?" Hermione nodded. She'd been shopping with Susan without her parents before. How hard could Diagon Alley be?

She began to walk up and down the streets, her nose deeply engrossed in her list. Soon, she bumped into a regal looking man who seemed to hold himself very highly.

"Beg your pardon, sir."

"Watch where you're going, little girl!"

"Terribly sorry, sir. Well, since I have your attention, could you by any chance point me in the direction of the bookstore?" The man scanned her up and down.

"Hm, muggle clothes, untamed hair, ridiculously large teeth. I would've mistaken you for a Weasly, but your hair isn't that stupid shade of red. You're a muggle then?"

Hermione's face began to flush. "Well, I guess you could say that. I mean, my parents are. They don't have any magic at all. Well, none that I know of. You see, they're both dentists and-"

"Save it," the man interrupted, "I don't need your life story. You're just a mudblood." He looked down at her bag of coins. "And a poor one, at that. Maybe you should be a Weasly." He then walked away from her without telling her where her desired destination was. Also, he left her very confused.

_Did he just call me a _mudblood_? What's that? I'm sure someone at the bookstore will tell me._ She then began to ask around to see if anyone would help her find a good bookstore. While some told her to go to some place in an area they called, "Knockturn Alley," Most told her to make her way to Folurish and Blotts for everything she'd need. The people who told her to go to Knockturn Alley seemed shady anyway. So, with their careful guidance, she found her way there soon. Once inside, she asked the shop keeper for help in finding her things. Once she had everything she needed, along with a few extras (_Hogwarts, a History_ _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, _Modern Magical History_, _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_, and _The Rise and Fall of the Darks Arts_ to name a few), the man asked her if she needed anything else. She was about to say no, but, there was a question burning in the back of her head. She felt awkward asking it, but it was something she felt that she needed to know.

"What does the word mudblood mean?" The man froze as he looked down at her. She was beginning to regret that she ever asked.

"Why do you want to know?"

Her face began to flush, "Well, I bumped into this man on the street. He called me a mudblood. Is that bad?"

The storekeeper nodded. "I'm afraid so, little girl. You see, mudblood is a term some wizards call muggle-born children. It's not very nice."

"Why do they call people that?"

"Well, some wizards who just have wizards in their families, 'purebloods,' they call themselves, they think that their better than muggle-born wizards. But, don't let it get to you. Hey, I'm half muggle myself."

Hermione chocked back tears as she smiled. Did people think she was weird just because she was a muggle? Well, she'd show them. Just like she was going to show the kids at her old school. She'll be the best Witch there ever was! She thanked the man and, just as she was about to leave, remembered something else.

"You wouldn't by any chance have a map of Diagon Alley on you?"

The man chuckled. "Sure, first time here is always a little confusing without help. Here you go."

"Thank you." She left the store and went to buy the rest of her things. It was most likely the most fun she'd ever had. She bought a nice silver telescope, a bunch of scales to measure ingredients in her potions class, pounds of ingredients (some of which she couldn't pronounce), robes to wear, and a pair of work gloves for Herbology (you could've gotten your name inscribed in for a few more Galleons. She just couldn't resist). Finally, all she needed was her wand. With a little help from her map, she found her way to an old, beat up store that the man had circled saying that it was the best place in the world for wands. She read the sign:

Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

Unsure of what she was doing, she inhaled and walked into the store. Once inside, she, once again, bumped into a random stranger.

"I'm sorry." The boy who turned around seemed to be a few years older than her.

"Don't worry about it. I'm Dylan."

"Hermione."

"Is this your fist wand?" Hermione nodded, and the boy chuckled. "I'm here to help my little brother get his. Where are you going?"

"Hogwarts."

"Cool, my brother and I are going to Drumstrang. It's a good school, I guess. But, damn is it cold." He looked over to see his brother leave with a strange box in his hand. "Well, later." Dylan and his brother left the store, leaving Hermione confused as ever. Where, and what, was Drumstrang? Where there other magic schools besides Hogwarts? She'd read about it later. Right now, it was her turn. She slowly made her way to the counter.

"Hello, I'm Hermione. I'm here to buy a wand." The man nodded and began to scan her up and down.

"Have I ever made a wand for a parent of yours?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm muggle-born."

"I see. Well, the sooner we find your wand, the sooner you can leave." So, the search began for the right wand. In that search, Hermione broke the same pot three times (Mr. Ollivander had to keep fixing it), caused four wands to come out of their boxes, and almost lit her hair on fire. But, after about a half and hour of failed attempts, Mr. Ollivander pulled out a blue box.

"Try this one. Vine wood, Dragon heartstring, eleven inches. I don't normally suggest vine wood. But, it might just work." She took the wand out and placed it in her hand. It felt warm, as if she'd been using it all her life. Scared about blowing the whole store up, she waved the wand. Red sparks shot out of it. Mr. Ollivander nodded.

"That's the one. Good, fourteen Galleons." Hermione paid the man and walked over to the ice cream shop. She then, after ordering some strawberry ice cream with chocolate sauce and nuts, tried to call her mom. But, the phone wasn't working. She tried again, still nothing. After a few more failed attempts, she walked up to the store owner.

"Where in Diagon Alley do you get service?"

The shop keep looked at her puzzled. "Service?" When she showed him her phone, he laughed. "Oh, muggle electronics don't work here. You need to go back to the Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione froze. She had no clue how to get back. But lucky for her, the shop owner seemed to figure out what her scared expression meant.

"Tap the same brick with your wand as you did when you came in." Hermione was just about to ask how she was supposed to know which brick that was when she remembered:

_Three up and two across from that rubbish bin._

When she got back to the wall, Hermione was relieved to see a similar rubbish bin waiting for her. She pulled out her wand and tapped the right brick. To her surprise and relief, the same archway opened up again. Once back inside the Leaky Cauldron, she phoned her mom.

"Hello, mum. I'm all done."

"Great! We'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron. How was it?"

"Oh, I had such a good time!"

"I'm glad. Did you learn anything?"

This question caused her to think for a minute. "Yes, I'm going to need more than book smarts to make it in the wizard world."


	3. The Chapter with the too long title

You may notice that this chapter title is the same as it is in the book. I don't own that. You may also notice that I have real HP quotes. I don't own those either.

The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

"Mum, mum, mum, wake up! An owl's come with more post!" Hermione was so excited that she wasn't able to sleep last night. She'd been rereading all her books for about the tenth time. They were some of the most fascinating things she'd ever read. All the magic and intrigue; plus, it was all real. She even practiced a few of the spells from her _Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_. They all seemed to work. Yes, they were simple things, such as repairing a small piece of broken glass, but it excited her all the same. Today was especially exciting, for when Hermione went downstairs to get some breakfast, she found another owl with a parchment holder on its leg. She didn't want to open it without her mom. So, she rushed to wake her at once.

"Just a few more minutes, Hermione, I'm tired."

"But I want you to see the new post!"

"You can open it; I'll see it when I'm conscious." Not bothering to ask if her mother was sure about that, she ran back downstairs and carefully removed the letter from the owl. There was a letter inside, along with a piece of paper that fell to the floor as soon as she opened it. She decided that it'd probably be best to read the letter first:

**Dear Ms. Granger,**

**This is your ticket to board the train that will take you to Hogwarts. Please take care not to lose it. The train will leave at eleven o'clock AM sharp from King's Cross Station on September 1. All your information is on your ticket.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall **

_**Deputy Headmistresses**_

Hermione checked her calendar. It was now August 31st. Her train left tomorrow! Quickly dropping to her hands and knees, she began to search for her ticket. She found it hiding under her kitchen table. As she pulled it up so she could read, all hopes of finding her magical school sank. According to this ticket, she was to meet her train on Platform 9 ¾. This wouldn't be the first time that Hermione had been to King's Cross. The only way for her to reach her grandmother's house was by train. She knew for a fact that there was no such Platform as 9 ¾. How was she supposed to find Hogwarts if the only way to get there was by a platform that she'd never heard of?

But, wait. Deep in the back of her mind, somewhere, the name came up. Almost as if she'd read about it, but didn't really seem to notice.

_Think, Hermione! If you ever want to go to Hogwarts, you have to figure out how to get to the platform._ She began to dig through every part of her mind in hopes of that one passage. Then, it came to her.

Without missing a beat, she ran up to her room and pulled out her copy of _Hogwarts, a History_. She began to flip through the pages violently until she found the correct passage:

_Today, students travel to Hogwarts via the Hogwarts Express. The train can be found of Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station in London. The platform is disguised to look like a normal brick wall in between Platforms Nine and Ten. There is a special charm on the wall so only wizards and witches can pass through. They just have to walk through when no muggles are looking._

Hermione closed her book. There was not need to read anymore. That one passage had all the information she needed. Tomorrow, she'd become a witch.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Wake up! Wake up! We have to be there in two hours!" Hermione was almost pushing her parents out of bed this morning. She was already dressed and ready to go. Her parents however, were a little more rushed to get ready. While they were fumbling with ties and makeup, Hermione went to check her bags for the fifteenth time.

_Books, robes, wand, stationary, gloves, quills, ink, parchment, pictures. Well, it all seems in order. I just hope that it's everything._

"Hermione, breakfast is ready. I'll help you carry your trunks down." Hermione smiled; grateful her father could help her. They seemed very heavy. And, based on her father's strained face, they were.

Once breakfast was served and final checks were made, they loaded everything into the car and headed to King's Cross Station. She was so excited that she could barely speak.

"Now, don't forget to write."

"Yes, mum."

"And don't attempt anything you know nothing about."

"Yes, mum."

"And stay away from dragons."

"Mum, what are the chances that dragons will be at Hogwarts?"

"Just making sure."

They didn't speak much for the rest of the trip. When they finally arrived at the station, Hermione gave her final good-byes to her parents.

"Muggles aren't allowed onto Platform 9 ¾. Good-bye. I love you both ever so much!" Hugs and kisses were passed among the family. And then, she made her way in the busy rush hour crowd.

Finally, she found herself at a huge brick wall in between Platforms Nine and Ten. She swallowed. Was she really about to run right into a brick wall?

_If _Hogwarts, a History_ says that's how you do it…_

She closed her eyes and made her way foreword. Due to nerves, what started out as a walk broke into a run. After a few seconds of running, she stopped. If she was going to crash into the wall, she'd of done it by now. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

That instant, all her breath was taken right out of her. It looked a lot like Diagon Alley. Witches and wizards were donned in all sorts of robes of different colors. All around, she could hear popping sounds and gasped as people disappeared right before her eyes. She read about being able to do that. But, it sounded like hard and dangerous magic. After taking a moment to absorb it all in, she made her way onto the train.

Once she handed in her ticket, she went to find a place to sit. After a while, she found a compartment that was empty. Throwing her stuff down, she sighed. The year hadn't even started yet and she couldn't be happier. Of course, when a boy with dreadlocks who, based on what other kids called him, she guessed was named Lee pulled out a hairy leg from a box that scared her a little. But finally, after about five minutes of waiting, the train was off to Hogwarts.

She was alone in the compartment. This wasn't a surprise to her. Hermione was slow at making friends. She certainly wasn't expecting to make them on the first day. She didn't know what the rules were going to be like at the school. But, she did know that the woman at the robe shop had told her that they were to wear their robes almost all the time. Some of the older kids were already dressed in their school robes.

_I should probably change into mine. I wouldn't want to get in trouble on the very first day._ As the train pulled out of the station, Hermione closed the windows of her car, both inside and out, and began to change into her robes. Once in, she began to look around the car.

_Oh, I wish there was a mirror in here!_ She didn't have much time to wish however. For, as soon as she changed into her robes, she heard a knock on her door.

_Wonder who it could be?_

"Come in!" She turned around and watched the door open to reveal and tearful and round-faced boy. He looked as if he had lost something dear to him. Trying to be helpful, she smiled at the boy.

"Can I help you?"

It took the boy a minute to answer, as if he was looking for the right words. "I lost my toad, have you seen him?" Judging by the look on his face, Hermione could tell that this toad meant a lot to him. So, trying to be nice, she smiled apologetically.

"No, I haven't. I'm ever so sorry. Would you like some help looking for him?" The boy wiped his eyes and nodded.

"Thanks, I'm Neville." Hermione walked out to the hall.

"I'm Hermione. Come on, let's check this way first." Before Neville could object and let her know that he already checked that way, Hermione had grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the hall.

She opened all of the compartments, asking if any of them had seen the boy's toad. All of them seemed to say no. At one car, she ran into a group of girls who looked to be around the age of sixteen.

"Have any of you seen a toad? A boy has lost one." The girls shook their heads and gazed upon the two.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! We haven't." One said as she turned to the others to see if they had. The other two girls didn't see them either. But, then one of them scanned Neville and Hermione and smiled.

"You're first years, aren't you?" One of the other girls with long black hair tied in a braid smiled.

"Oh, yea! You guys aren't wearing house robes yet. Do you guys no what house you'll get in?" Both of them shook their heads. Hermione, raging with curiosity, looked at the three girls.

"Which house is the best?"

"Well, one really isn't better than any other. The two of us are in Ravenclaw. And Becky here is in Gryffindor. Ravenclaw is were smart people go, usually."

"But," the one named Becky continued, "most people want to be in Gryffindor. All the famous wizards of the world were there, well, at least most of them."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks. Now, we better look for Neville's toad." She closed the door and continued to look through the other cars. All the while, her mind was on the houses.

_I really hope I'm in Gryffindor. It seems the best out of all. But, Ravenclaw can't be all that bad._

At last, she came to a compartment at the end of the line.

_Oh, I just hope that these people have seen that toad._

She slid open the door to find two boys sitting across from each other. One was rather handsome, with messy black hair and glasses. Somehow, she thought that she had seen him before. The other was a gawky and awkward looking redhead with his wand upraised. A piece of what she expected to be unicorn hair seemed to be poking out of his wand. They looked up at her with confused and slightly aggravated faces.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she pointed to Neville in case that they didn't know him. Her eyes, however, weren't as focused on helping Neville find his toad. The redhead's wand was raised as if he was about to perform a spell. She became instantly excited. This boy probably knew a lot of magic. Maybe he would show her some. She heard the boy say something, but she wasn't listening. Her mind was focused on the magic she was about to see.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down next to the redhead and across from the more handsome boy. The redhead looked taken aback by her presence.

"Er—Alright." He cleared his throat and began to recite the spell:

"_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

Hermione watched as the boy waved his wand. And, unlike she had guessed, nothing happened. The rat he seemed to be aiming as just continued to sleep. To tell the truth, she was rather surprised at the spell. It was very unlike the spells she had read about and tried herself. She wasn't sure if that spell was even real.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" She asked, still staring at the unchanged, gray rat. "Well, it's not a very good one, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard—I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough—I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said that rather fast, as she was aware of it too. But, sometimes, when she got excited, she ranted on about all sorts of things. To tell the truth, these boys made her nervous. They both had probably been practicing magic all their lives. For all she knew, they could set her on fire right now. What if they were way ahead of her without even reading the books? It didn't help when she saw their stunned faces at the fact that she had memorized the course books. She just hoped that they didn't think too low of her already. There was a minute of awkward silence before the boys spoke.

"I'm Ron Weasley," muttered the redhead who preformed the spell which didn't work.

"Harry Potter," Said the other. Just then, Hermione's brain clicked on.

_I _knew_ I heard about him before!_

"Are you really? I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_." Of course, he probably knew all about that. How could he have not of? But, to her great surprise, he acted like he didn't even know what he was written up for. This lifted her spirits a little. Maybe she wasn't extremely behind in the Wizarding world.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravencalaw wouldn't be too bad…Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." She then walked out without bothering to turn back to Harry and Ron's confused faces. She and Neville then looked for a few more minutes. After a while, they heard a scream from the other side of the train. Breaking into a run, the two kids opened the door of the compartment where the sound was coming from.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. In the compartment were two Indian girls who appeared to be twins.

"T-Toad!" One of them cried in disgust. All heads turned to see a fat, green toad sitting by himself on one of the benches.

"Trevor!" Neville happily picked up his toad and went to go back to his car. Hermione smiled. She was just glad that Neville had found his toad.

_Wonder how much longer the rest of the ride shall be? I'll ask the conductor._ She made her way to the front of the train to see an older man using magic to steer the train.

"Excuse me, how much longer do you suppose until we arrive?"

"Oh, don't worry, dear. We're nearly there."

"Alright, thank you." She smiled and left. No sooner had she left when she read another scream. She ran down the hall, nearly crashing into other kids her age racing down the halls to see who was the fastest, and saw three boys leaving the compartment that Ron and Harry were in. Curious, she walked in.

"What _has_ been going on?" There were candies and sweets spread all over the floor, and Ron was bending down to pick his rat off the floor.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said. He scanned his rat again. "No—I don't believe it—he's gone back to sleep." Sure enough, the rat was lying limply on Ron's lap, sleeping soundly. Hermonie smiled, but tried not to make a sound. Ron continued to talk to Harry.

"You've met Malfoy before?"

"Well," Harry explained, "when I was getting my robes fitted, I ran into him. He wasn't the world's nicest person, if you know what I mean."

Ron nodded. "I've heard of his family." There was darkness in his voice. "They were some of the fist to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." For the fist time since Hermione walked in, Ron acknowledged her presence. He turned to her with an annoyed stare. "Can we help you with something?"

It felt strange to say that she wanted to make sure they were okay. But, that was her reason of coming. Lucky for them, they were fine. Two of those boys, the two she was guessing weren't Malfoy, looked as if they could break either of them in half. She had to quickly think of another reason for barging in. She scanned the two boys, and then gave them an annoyed and bossy look.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!" Hermione did not approve of fighting, especially since they weren't even at the school yet. She wasn't sure what they did to punish people there. They could get points docked off for their house. Which, wouldn't be a problem, but Hermione wasn't sure that she would be in the same house as them. She didn't want to start of the year behind. The boys, however, didn't seem to share her reasoning.

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us." Ron scowled at her while he said that. Hermione didn't buy it for a second. That rat could barely move, how could it possibly fight? The year hadn't even started, and already she found someone that disgusted her. And, apparently, the feelings were returned by him. He continued to look angrily at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

She had to leave now. Ron and Harry were just looking for excuses to kick her out, and she knew that. But, she couldn't find any way to protest. Not that she really wanted one. She just rolled her eyes. "All right—I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," her voice became sniffy and she scanned Ron one more time. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?" She walked out before she could see Ron's hateful glare. In about twenty minutes time, a voice echoed from the train announcing it was time to get off the train. She quickly ran to get with the others to step of the train.

Hermione inhaled. It was now or never. She made her first steps off the train, and into a world unlike any other.


	4. A Night of Magic

Author's Note: I'm in the process of rewriting all my chapters. So, to all my old readers, just check back every week or so and make sure everything is still the same. I'll let you know when I'm done (though, I'll never _really_ be done editing. I just don't feel that I'll make as big plot changes as I am now.) Just to keep you updated. Okay, enjoy!

A Night of Magic

The minute Hermione stepped off the train; she knew that she wasn't in London anymore. Candles lit the entire station was lit with candles. Waiting for the students were carriages that seemed to be pulled by nothing. She was excited to ride in one of those, but, the school had other plans.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" Hermonie turned to see a man at least three times taller than her own father. She would've been terrified, but he seemed to work for Hogwarts. Plus, he knew Harry. And, while she didn't know Harry that well, she knew, thanks to her reading, that he was far from evil. So, she figured it was okay to trust the giant. She followed the other giant mass of first years to the giant man. None of them came taller than his knees.

"C'mon, follow me—any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" He led them down a steep and narrow path. The giant himself could barely go four steps without tripping. Why on earth was he taking if he could barely make it to their destination? Finally, after many minutes of walking, and many scraped knees (mostly by the giant) to show it, they were all lead to a beautiful, huge black lake. It was so clear that Ron was able to look down and find _exactly_ where the dirt on his nose was. But, towering over the lake was a huge and magnificent castle so beautiful, it made Buckingham Palace look like her neighbor's doghouse.

"No more'n four to a boat!" It wasn't until the giant mentioned it that Hermione noticed an armada of little boats waiting to take the students to the dream castle. She began to quickly search for a boat. However, all seemed to fill quickly. The two Indian twins who were in the same car as Trevor's toad were in a boat with two other strange girls. The three boys she saw walking out of Harry and Ron's car were riding with some strange boy. Every boat was filled. But, to her good fortune, Neville was looking for a boat too. After a little more investigation, she found one empty boat.

Well, almost empty. Two boys were already in it. When she saw who those boys were, she sighed. Did she really want to ride with those two? Did she have a choice? Seeing no way out of it, she motioned for Neville to follow her into their boat.

_It's just for the ride._

"Everyone in? Right then—FORWARD!" Unsure how he did it, the giant got all the boats to move towards the castle at the exact same time. She would've enjoyed this ride more than anything, but the looks that Harry and Ron (mainly Ron) gave her reminded her a little too much of the boys at her school. She tried not to focus on them and focus on the beautiful scenery, but it was of no use. No matter which way she turned her head, she knew that they were there, and hating every second that they had to spend in this boat with her.

After a while, the boats landed onto an area full of pebbles. Hermione guessed that this was where they got off. She followed Ron and Harry off the boats. The giant, who was inspecting all the boats, stopped and theirs and pulled out something hiding underneath the seats.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" Neville smiled as he secured his toad in his hands. Hermione was starting to wonder if this boy was always this forgetful. If he was, well then, he probably wasn't going to do so well in his classes. The group of students followed the giant up a pathway leading to two large wooden doors. Hermione gulped. This was it—no turning back now.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Neville nodded, and the giant smiled his approval. He turned to the door and knocked three times. There was no denying the fact that she was nervous. What if she wasn't good enough? What if they sent her on the first train back to London? What if…she failed?

The giant man barely had time to lift his fist (which was bigger than her head, by the way) when the door swung open to reveal an older woman with black hair worn in a tight bun. She wore emerald-green robes that went all the way down to the floor (which was saying something, seeing as she was rather tall). She had a stern expression that didn't look like it had room for horse play. Hermione took a quick mental note not to cross her any more than she had to.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." The giant presented the awkward group of children to the teacher. She just nodded.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." _So, his name is Hagrid. I'll have to remember that._ Professor McGonagall opened to doors wide to reveal a magnificent entrance hall. The old, stone walls were illuminated brilliantly with torches about every three feet, the ceilings were so high, Hermione couldn't even make out the beautiful patterns that she read about in _Hogwarts, a History_. And, right in front of them was a grand marble staircase that led to upper floors. Hermione was more than sure that this hall would fit her whole house and still have room for students to get from one place to another.

The old woman ushered the students to follow her across the hall. To the right was a doorway in which Hermione could hear countless amounts of voices. She figured that the rest of the school must be here by now. Those carriages led by nothing must travel faster than the boats did. It puzzled her. Why would they have first years come so much later than all the other students? Professor McGonagall continued to lead the students to a separate chamber rather small in size. The group of students stood nervously and closely together as they waited for further instruction.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall began. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She eyed the crowd for a second, paying extra attention to Neville's befuddled robes, Harry's messy hair, and a few other kids who had little things they could clean up.

Throughout the entire lecture, Hermione listened attentively. While, she knew most of the information from reading _Hogwarts, a History_, there were still a few things that were new to her. She also began to grow nervous when she learned that there was a test to see what house you would be sorted into. She never once read anything about a test. What was the test going to be like? Would she have to perform magic? What if she got sorted into the house no one liked and everyone saw? She began to grow nervous again.

"Oh, I hope we don't have to do any magic. I mean, I'm able to do some spells. Which ones do you think we'll have to do? I'm still a little shaky on my repairing spells, so I hope that doesn't come up. Surely it won't be anything to complicated, right? Maybe it'll just be simple spells. Like a levitation charm. Those are pretty easy. I can do those without much of a problem. What others do you think we'll need to use?" She began to whisper to the crowd in a fast tone. No one seemed to respond to her. They didn't seem to know themselves. This only made her more nervous.

She quickly checked herself over one more time. Was her hair okay? Of course it wasn't. It never was. That's just how it was destined to be. _At least my hair isn't as wild as Harry's. He just groomed it and it's already back in a mess._ What about her teeth? That was a wasted effort. Her teeth were _never_ going to be perfect.

Just then, Hermione heard some people gasping and screaming. She turned around and screamed herself. Twenty or so ghosts and just passed through the back wall. Hermione had never seen a ghost before, but she was sure they wouldn't hurt her. Still, upon first glance, they were rather frightening. They seemed to be in a heated argument about something or other.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—" A fat little monk like ghost said this and he and the rest of the ghosts flew right atop the first years as if they weren't even there.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?" The ghost, who seemed to be the first to even register that there living things even in the room, turned to look at the first years. Everyone was too shocked to answer. Even Hermione couldn't find a single word in her throat. Then, the Fat Friar realized what was going on.

"New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose?" He smiled as the students nodded in mute shock. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned to the chamber. The ghosts took that at their signal to leave. They exited through the opposite wall. She turned back to the first years, her lips still pressed tighter than Hermione thought possible. "Now, form a line and follow me."

Hermione quickly formed herself behind the two Indian twins and made her way with the rest of the first years. Professor McGonagall led the first years through two huge doors into the Great Hall. It was everything she dreamed about and more. Thousands of floating candles lit the vast hall. There were four long tables donned with red, yellow, blue, and green tablecloths. The rest of the students seemed to already be here, each sitting at their respected tables. They were engaging in small conversations when the children first entered the room. But, once the first years were about halfway down the hall, and means of talking stopped and all eyes were on them. Hermione felt her face flush from embarrassment. She never was a fan of a hundred eyes right on her. She almost fainted during her third grade Christmas show. And all she had to do was dress up as the tree and have her classmates dance around her.

She began to look for _anything_ to keep her mind off the thousands of faces. She looked forward to see a long table where the teachers sat. But, the fact that they were staring at her too didn't help her nerves. In fact, their eyes scared her more than the students' did. The students didn't grade her. Her nerves still high, she looked the only direction that wouldn't look back…up. Instantly, she was dazzled by a brilliant velvety black sky-like ceiling dotted with beautiful stars. She smiled and whispered to the group.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_." Even though she read about it, Hermione couldn't believe that this was a ceiling, and not the real night sky. It looked exactly like the sky outside.

She looked back down to see Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of them. On top of the stool stood an old and worn black hat with many patches and a long rip in the front. It looked like something from her aunt's antique shop.

_What could this be for? I never read anything about a hat._ She looked around. Everyone was staring at the hat with immense concentration. This confused Hermione. What was so special about a hat? After all, it was just that, at hat, right?

Just then, she head a few first years gasp. The hat had twitched a little. At first, she thought it was just a trick of the light. But, then the hat opened what she thought was a rip in the hat into a mouth. Hermione almost screamed herself. The hat then began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep you bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid to toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning fold use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

When the hat finished its song, the hall burst into a roaring applause. It gracefully bowed to the four tables and began stiff again. Hermione blinked. The hat was once again, a hat. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it was just like the robots at amusement parks that sing every ten minutes. But, according to _Hogwarts, A History_, any electric device couldn't work in Hogwarts grounds.

_So, all I have to do is try this on. Still, I wish it wasn't in front of all these people._ In front of her, the Indian twins were talking with another girl about how filthy and sweaty. Hermione rolled her eyes. Obviously, they didn't have to be the Christmas tree in a small town that has been performing the same play for twenty years without costume change. Compared to that, this hat would be fresh off the racks. Still, she did wonder how long they had been using that thing. After all, this school was over a thousand years old. Surely the hat wasn't that old, was it?

Professor McGonagall walked up next to the stool with the hat. In her hands was a scroll so large that, when she fully unrolled it, a lot of it hit the floor. And, she wasn't the shortest person in the school to begin with.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!"

A small girl with pigtails nervously made her way out of the line. All eyes (especially those of the first years, who were waiting eagerly to what they were about to encounter) were on her as she sat on the stool and placed the hat on her head. There was a moment of the most awkward silences Hermione had ever felt. And then—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The table with the yellow tablecloth burst into applause as the girl took her seat among her new classmates.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The sorting continued as such. The children were dispatched among the four houses. Lavender Brown, who seemed to be the girl the Indian twins were talking to, was the first into Gryffindor. It may have been just her imagine, but Hermione was sure that they gave the loudest and most eventful applause when someone was placed into their house. A strange girl named Millicent Bulstrode was in Slytherin. Hermione just hoped that she'd never have to come into close contact with her. Finally, after a Sandy haired boy named Seamus Finnigan was sorted into Gryffindor after a long time under the hat, her name was next on the list.

"Granger, Hermione!" In a burst of excitement, Hermione ran to the stool and eagerly placed the hat on top of her head. She was nervous, but she didn't want to show it. The last thing she needed was for people to think of her as a shy freak on her first day.

_I just don't want to be in Sl—_

"GRYFFINDOR!" Hermione couldn't even finish her thought before the hat called out where she belonged. A roar of applause came from the far left table with the red tablecloth. Not hesitating, she ran over to the table. She sat across from Lavender and waited eagerly for the rest of the students.

From where she was sitting, she could see Harry and Ron. They were pretty close to the back of the line, as if that would prolong their sorting. Hermione grinned. She didn't like to admit it, but Harry was rather handsome. Though, his hair was rather messy. Didn't he even _try_ to keep it tidy? No matter. She looked over at Ron. She still didn't like him, after the way he treated her. She just hoped that he wouldn't be in her house.

She scanned up and down her table. While no one really stood out in her mind, she couldn't help but noticing a lot of boys with hair the same flaming red color as Ron's. One of them, who seemed to be the eldest, was sitting next to her. This didn't make her feel so good. What if they were his brothers? Did that increase your chance of getting into a certain house? She hoped not.

More names were called. Neville was sorted into Gryffindor. Hermione smiled. At least she wouldn't start off her year knowing no one. When Draco Malfoy's name was called, Hermione almost demanded a resort. The hat barely touched his head when he was declared a Slytherin. If you weren't looking real close, it would be certain that the hat didn't touch his head at all.

More names were sorted. She watched as Padama Patil, one of the Indian girls, got sorted into Ravenclaw. Hermione was sure that her sister, Pavarti, would be in Ravenclaw as well. But, to her surprise, she was sorted into Gryffindor. The sisters looked devastated. Pavarti sat next to Lavander, who assured her that she'd see her sister a lot. This made her feel a little better. Then, after a few more names were called, Professor McGonagall called out—

"Potter, Harry!" Hermione could only see his back, but she was sure that he was flushing. Well, why wouldn't you? All throughout the hall, whispers were passing between friends and strangers.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

"We met him, Fred and I. Saw him at King's Cross. We even helped him get to the Platform." Hermione turned to see two red haired boys. The two looked exactly alike. They had to be twins.

"Oh, sod off, George. There's no way you met Harry!"

"We did too!" cried the one she assumed to be Fred.

"Weasly guarantee." They both said at the same time. Hermione turned her attention back to the sorting. He was taking an awful long time. She wondered if the hat was talking to him. It didn't talk to her. Maybe he wasn't as easy. But, finally, after two minutes of silent anticipation, the hat called out Harry's house.

"GRYFFINDOR!" There was an eruption from the Gryffindor table. Cheers were chanted twice as loud, the older red-haired boy next to Hermione stood up to shake Harry's hand, and Fred and George stood up and chanted, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

A few more names were sorted before it became Ron's turn. While she despised him, Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for him. His face and turned a pale shade of green, and he looked as if he was going to puke. She crossed her fingers under the table that he wouldn't get—

"GRYFFINDOR!" Hermione rolled her eyes and clapped politely as Ron nearly fainted into the chair next to Harry.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said the older boy next to her. That proved it. The Weasly family was booked into Gryffindor. Finally, the last kid, Blaise Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin. It was all over. It was only then that Hermione felt her stomach roar.

An old man stood up from his elegantly designed chair at the center of the High Table. He wore half-moon spectacles, had a crooked nose, and wore a long, flowing, and silver beard that went all the way down to his waist. Hermione thought he could've been as old as the school. For a second, she thought of who the man could be. Then, she remembered her acceptance letter. It said that the headmaster was a Mr. Albus Dumbledore. He smiled to the students as if this was his favorite place in the world.

"Welcome!" he began. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

Hermione blinked. Everyone around her was clapping and cheering. He couldn't be serious, could he?"

"Is he—a bit mad?" Hermione turned to watch Harry ask the boy next to her exactly what she was thinking. She sighed to herself. At least she wasn't alone.

"Mad? He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

That last question puzzled Hermione. But, when she looked down at her plate, she almost gasped in surprise. All around her, the serving platters and dishes were full of every food imaginable. Roasts, puddings, chicken, potatoes, vegetables, and, for some reason, peppermint humbugs. She took a bite of a lamb chop. It was so much better than anything her mother ever cooked. She smiled. What would her mother say if she knew Hermione said that?

Her mom. For the first time since Hermione got here, she began to feel a little homesick. She wouldn't see her family until Christmas. How would they cope without her? How would she? She decided not to dwell too much on it. This was a time for celebration!

"That does look so good." Hermione looked up to see a ghost sadly watch the kids eat. Harry turned to him.

"Can't you—?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower." Hermione gulped. Would she have to remember that name?

"I know who you are!" Ron cried all of a sudden. "My brothers told me about you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!" Hermione rolled her eyes. _Way to ruin and introduction._

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy—" the ghost began to say, but then Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"_Nearly_ Headless? How can you be _nearly_ headless?" Hermione turned her head to listen to the conversation. It was becoming rather interesting. After all, not even she knew how one could be nearly headless.

Sir Nicholas, however, wasn't as interested in the conversation. In fact, he didn't look happy at all. This talk wasn't going how he wanted it at all. "Like _this_," His voice was irritable. He pulled his left ear and pulled. Lavender and Pavarti nearly fainted as his whole head came swinging off his neck. But, it didn't come all the way off. A small piece of ghostly tissue hung his head to his neck like a hinge. He seemed satisfied at their stunned and horrified faces, so he re-secured his head and coughed.

"So—new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Blood Baron's becoming almost unbearable—he's the Slytherin ghost."

Hermione gulped. The Bloody Baron? The name itself sounded creepy. She made a quick mental note not to cross his path.

Seamus, once again, asked the one question that Hermione was burning to know the answer to. "How did he get covered in blood?"

"I've never asked." Replied Nearly Headless Nick.

Hermione dived back into her food. She couldn't help but wonder when classes would start. She was so excited she could hardly contain it.

"Hello, I'm Percy. Gryffindor prefect." Hermione looked up to see the older boy sitting next to her attempting to make conversation. She figured that she might as well be polite.

"I'm Hermione Granger."

Percy smiled. "So, are you excited about the new year?"

"Oh, yes. I _do_ hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult."

"You'll be starting small, turning matches into needles and that sort of thing."

Hermione nodded. "When do we move on to more advanced things?"

"Well, your first year is pretty basic, and second year isn't much worse. I'd say it's about third year that you move on to more advanced projects."

"Still, it's still going to be interes-"

"Ouch!" Hermione turned to see Harry grasping on to his forehead. He looked as if he was in pain. Percy turned to him as well.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"N-nothing." Hermione was puzzled, yet worried about Harry's health. Would he be okay? Was is nothing? It probably was. She turned back to her food. But, still, there was something eating her in the back of her mind. Why would Harry just scream in pain like that? Would it happen again? Was there something going on?

"So, what do you think of Harry Potter?"

Hermione looked up to see Lavender and Pavarti having a rather interesting conversation.

"What do you mean?" asked Lavander.

"I think he's cute. With his hair all wild like that. Plus, those deep green eyes. They're like emeralds." Said Pavarti giggling.

"Oh, yes, he is one of the more handsome boy of our year. But, what about that Draco Malfoy?"

"Well, he's okay. But still, there's cuter." The two girls giggled to each other and talked more, rating each boy based on different qualities. Finally, a name came up that even had Hermione intrigued.

"What about Ron Weasley?" asked Lavander.

"Not only is Ron extremely unattractive, he's a git with the personality of a shovel." The three girls looked up in shock at Hermione's sudden comment. Surely, they weren't expecting her to join in on their conversation. Then, Pavarti smiled.

"Well, Ms. Granger, most true romances start out as a deep hatred." The girls giggled as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please. The chance of Ron and I ending up together has the same chance of a troll attacking me directly before the year is over. It's just not going to happen."

"Well, I think Ron is cute." Lavender smiled, as if lost in a daydream. Then, the tree girls proceeded in their own conversation, leaving Hermione to finish her own pudding. But soon, the desserts vanished as well. Then, once again, Professor Dumbledore arose to his feet. The hall was silent in an instant.

"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do will the remember that as well."

He was still smiling, but Hermione was sure that Dumbledore was flashing a glance at the two Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

_Quidditch? I've read about that, but I'd like to know more. I don't think I'd be able to play. I can't stand flying in airplanes where there are seatbelts. Let alone a flimsy piece of wood with giant metal balls hurling at me trying to kill me! _

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does no wish to die a very painful death."

Hermione gulped. He couldn't be serious, could he? What could be up there that's so secret, the teachers would be willing to kill?

"And now, before we got to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried. Hermione blinked. How can one man go from dead serious, to sing-song happy in half a second? She was starting to question his sanity.

The old man flicked his wand, and a long golden ribbon poured out. It flew above his head for the whole Hall to see. The ribbon began to twist and turn itself into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" Just then, the hole school burst into a confused and jumbled chorus:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Hermione stared in silent confusion as everyone ended at different. The last to end were the Weasley twins singing to a slow funeral march. Once everyone was finished, Dumbledore smiled.

"Ah, music, a magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The first years were escorted away by Percy the prefect out of the Great Hall and up the grand marble staircase. Hermione almost broke her neck looking around at all the pictures that whispered and pointed as they passed. Also, twice, Percy led them through door covered by hanging tapestries.

Everyone was tired as they were led up more staircases and hallways. Everyone was yawning and falling asleep in their tracks. Just then, the group came to a sudden halt as half a dozen walking sticks hovered above their heads. Hermione would've reacted, but she was too tired to even speak. So, she just stood there as the sticks came hurling at Percy, who just barely dodged them.

"Peeves," he whispered to the first years, "A poltergeist." He then turned around and raised his voice. "Peeves—show yourself."

A loud sound, as if air was deflating from a balloon came out of the air. Percy rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to get the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, then a little man with dark eyes and a wicked smile appeared. He floated cross-legged in the air, holding the remainder of the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh! Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He gave an evil crackle and swooped down. They all ducked down.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy yelled. Peeves just stuck his tongue out and disappeared, dropping his walking sticks on Neville's head.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," Percy explained as they continued to walk. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here was are."

In front of them was a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis." Percy answered. To Hermione's surprise, the portrait swung open to allow the group into the Gryffindor common room.

The common room itself was beautiful. It was a round room donned with beautiful tapestries, painting, and assorted wall decorations themed with the colors red and gold. Soft, plush armchairs dotted the space, most around a grand fireplace. Tables with the Gryffindor seal, a lion, scattered the area; perfect for doing homework or other activities. There were also two or three red couches big enough for about four people to sit.

Percy ushered the boys through one door and the girls to another, which led them to their dorms. Hermione guessed that, judging by the amount of spiral stairs she had to climb, that she was in one of the towers.

Her bedroom had five four-poster beds. They were claimed by Lavander Brown, Pavarti Patil, Diana Agnito, Rose Sentis, and Hermione. She was relived to find that all her trunks and luggage made it off the train safely. At least, that's how it looked on the outside. A cautious child in nature, Hermione opened her trunks to make sure everything was in order.

The minute she opened her trunk, she was sure there was some sort of mistake. On the outside, it was her without a doubt her luggage. Right down to the dog picture on her name tag. But, on the inside, she couldn't identify a single article as her own. In her trunk there was now an assortment of red and gold striped ties and scarves. Moreover, what she thought were her plain, black robes she bought at Diagon Alley now had a Gryffindor crest sewn into each of them. She turned around to the group of girls.

"Excuse me. I'm ever so sorry, but does anyone have any luggage that's not theirs? I think I may have someone else's by mistake."

"I don't _think_ so. Then again, this doesn't look like my clothing either." Lavender replied as she examined her on contents. Pavarti seemed to have the same conclusion about her own wardrobe. Diana didn't seem to even hear what they were talking about. She was deeply engrossed in a book about Jupiter.

"Oh, you three girls are so stupid. Don't you know anything?" Hermione turned to see Rose sitting on her bed and looking at them like they were her annoying little sisters. "As soon as your sorted, your robes sew in your crest and the remainder of your uniform is added with your luggage. Honestly, it doesn't take a genius to figure this stuff out."

Pavarti imitated Rose's look back at her. "I'm guessing you're not the first in your family?"

"My whole family has been in Slytherin for over fifty years. Both my parents were in Slytherin, as were my grandparents. Naturally, I was expecting, and hoping to be in Slytherin. It's by far the best house. No mudbloods to screw it up. Pure bloods from the very beginning. Not to mention, they're the smartest and most cunning in the whole school."

Hermione was ready to stuff a pillow over a Rose's head. She was disliking this girl more by the second. Obviously, her family was similar to that of the man who she bumped into at Diagon Alley. How many people like this were there in this world?

"Hey," Lavander cried, breaking her train of thought, "I happen to be pure blood, thank you very much! My family just never went to Hogwarts before. So why don't you just leave us alone?"

Rose laughed. "Whatever. Just keep this in mind, Gryffindorks, you don't bug me, and I'll try to leave you alone."

"Jupiter and Mars will be in alignment tomorrow night. Would anyone care to watch with me at the Astronomy Tower?"

Everyone turned their heads to see Diana look up from their book. Her eyes looked dreamy and spacey, as if she wasn't really talking to the kids in the room. Not sure what how to respond, everyone ignored her and went on with their separate ways.

Hermione quickly and silently got changed and ready for the night. She was too tired to talk too much with her roommates. She was also very mad at Rose. She and that girl were going to have some problems. But, she couldn't stress about it now. She went into her bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

Author's Note: Okay, I know all of you Luna Lovegood fans are going to bombard me with threats due to the fact that I stole your favorite character. I'm aware that I took some ideas from her personality and used them in Diana. I love Luna, she's one of my favorite characters. I can really relate to her. That's why I sort of used her for Diana. So, don't hate me now. For all I know, this could be the last time you ever see her. I needed characters to fill the empty spaces that Rowling left out in means of Hermione's roommates. But, this won't be the last of Rose. That much I can promise you. I just wanted to let you all know that I know about the similarities between Luna and Diana. So, please don't send me a million reviews saying that I stole Luna.

Oh, and speaking of reviews. I've gotten a few anonymous reviews from people saying that I have no right to flame people seeing as, "this story stinks." Now, I have no problem with that. I personally laugh at these people trying to flame. However, if you are, I kindly ask that you don't do it anonymously. That way, I can laugh at you for writing horribly and "flaming" me instead of me laughing at you for being a whimp and not telling me who you really are. Either way, I'm going to laugh at you- no way around that.


	5. Hermione Granger not a dunderhead

Author's Note: Guess what? My first chapter doesn't suck anymore! Well…not as much. I did the final plot change, so it should be as good as it's going to get. I still think it's my worst chapter, though. Well…enjoy!

Hermione Granger- not a dunderhead

"_Please answer the question, Hermione."_

"_I-I don't know!" Hermione looked up at the tall, grey and faceless teacher asking her questions about advanced magic that she never read about. He was at least twelve feet taller than her. Tears streamed down her face as she began to shiver. All around her faceless students were jeering and snickering, their evil eyes twinkling with triumph over the fact that she knew nothing. With every answer she didn't know, the room around her grew. She had never felt so scared or alone._

"_Of course you don't," the teacher said as the room grew again. "You're just a stupid mudblood. How on earth could mudbloods know anything? Your coming here was a mistake. You can't even do the simplest of magic." She watched in horror as the teacher waved his wand and storm of toads fell from the sky. "Everyone can do at least that."_

_The class laughed and quickly imitated the teacher's spell. Hermione was crying harder than ever as she was buried beneath the thousands of toads._

"_Why can't you be more like Rose Sentis? She's top student in all her classes. Everything Hogwarts could ask for. I wouldn't expect anything less from a pureblood." Laughter filled the room as Rose stepped out from behind the teacher._

"_Filthy mudblood—you don't belong here. Go back where you belong." She laughed again and waved her wand. A gigantic lion made of pure fire erupted behind her. It was at least twenty feet tall, its eyes full of evil and hatred._

_Hermione screamed and ran do the open doorway. But, the more she ran, the farther away it became. Everyone was laughing at her chanting, "Mudblood! Mudblood!" Then, she tripped over her feet and watched in terror as the lion came closer and closer. There was no way out of it._

"_Say good-bye, mudblood."_

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Hermione jolted awake in a cold sweat. In the back round, bells from the clock tower were chiming loudly, awaking the school. But, she didn't need the bells to wake her up this morning. That nightmare was one of the scariest things she'd ever dreamt. Breathing heavily, Hermione looked around the dorm room.

_It was just a dream. It was just a dream._

Still, Hermione couldn't help but look across the way at Rose as she arose from her bed and gave a silent yawn. It wasn't until now that Hermione realized how pretty she was. Long, white-blonde hair gracefully hugged her waist. Her eyes were a stunning blue that stared at her roommates like ice. Her skin was without a blemish, and her body was perfect. Her teeth were perfect and straight—too bad she never smiled. Hermione couldn't help but feel hideous in comparison. A girl like Rose didn't deserve to be beautiful.

She decided not to fret about it for too long—Rose wasn't worth it. So, she just smiled and bid her roommates good morning. Pavarti and Lavender politely smiled back, Diana waved as she was rubbing sleep out of her misty, grey eyes, and Rose just pretended she didn't hear her.

She quickly washed and got dressed. Scanning herself in the mirror to make sure her hair was at least presentable and her tie was on straight, Hermione smiled, pleased with the outcome. She then followed the other girls to breakfast.

The food just as good (if not, better) than the food last night. A full table full of pancakes, waffles, cereals, and other assorted breakfast foods was laid in front of them. Hermione helped herself to a banana and some waffles and began to eat in silence. All around her, people were discussing what classes would be like, whether teachers would be mean, and which staircases to avoid. Hermione, who still hadn't made any friends yet, just sat and took in the information that the older kids were pouring into the first years. ("Stay away from Peeves at all costs…If there's one teacher you don't want to cross, it's Snape…If you see Filch's cat, don't move; one step out of line and your in big trouble".) Finally, Professor McGonagall came around passing out some sort of paper.

"These are your schedules; make sure not to lose them" she explained. Hermione read hers twice to make sure she knew it:

**Monday: Breakfast, Herbology, Charms, Lunch, History of Magic, Dinner**

**Tuesday: Breakfast, Charms, Transfiguration, Lunch, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dinner**

**Wednesday: Breakfast, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Lunch, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Dinner, Astronomy**

**Thursday: Breakfast, History of Magic, Herbology, Lunch, Transfiguration, Dinner**

**Friday: Breakfast, Potions, History of Magic, Lunch, Open, Dinner**

**Wake up will be at eight o'clock AM sharp**

**Breakfast will be at nine o'clock AM sharp and last one hour**

**Your first lesson will begin at 10 o' clock AM sharp. Each class lasts forty-five (save for doubles) minutes with fifteen minutes passing time**

**All but one day a week (depending on year), your first class after breakfast and your first class after lunch will be double, lasting one hour and forty-five minutes. Passing time between classes will remain fifteen minutes to avoid confusion.**

**Lunch will be at one o'clock PM sharp and last one hour**

**Dinner will be at seven o'clock PM sharp and last one hour**

**Curfew is at eleven o'clock PM sharp. Students must be in their common room by this time. However, they can go to bed at their own accord.**

**Astronomy lessons will be held at midnight. On your night for an astronomy lesson, the curfew will be expanded to one fifteen AM to give you time to get to your common room. However, you must go straight to your common room after your lesson.**

Once she was done, Hermione placed her schedule into her pocket and finished her breakfast. Now, that schedules have been passed, the conversation began to change.

"Oh, you are so lucky! You first-years only have Slytherin for one class. But, it's with Snape."

If I were you, I'd keep clear of Quirrrell. Something isn't right about him. He's such an oddball."

"No matter what happens, try to stay awake in Binns. Oh, you have his class double on a Monday, tough break. I swear, he'll put you right to sleep."

"Ouch, the day you don't have any doubles is your astronomy day. Good luck…you're going to need it."

"Susie, how come you aren't taking OWL level Herbology?"

"Well, Jan, I didn't do so well on the exams. Plus, I was never that interested in it anyway. I'm going to work at Gringotts. I hear being a curse-breaker is so much fun!"

Hermione watched as all the people exchanged the different information about all the classes. All this talk only made her more nervous. Would she really be able to do what the teachers expected her to do? All of a sudden, she lost her appetite.

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The lady who came to Hermione's house warned her that classes would be hard. However, she never imagined that they would as horrible as they were. Sure, they were fun, but some lessons were almost impossible.

For starters, the first day of school, Hermione couldn't even _find_ a few of her classes. There were so many staircases and corridors, she was surprised the _professors_ could find all the rooms. Sure, there were many ghosts around, but half of them sent you in the wrong direction for a good laugh. Hermione never found it funny.

Her charms room was behind a portrait, just like the Gryffindor Common Room. However, the first day of lessons, the man in the portrait wouldn't tell Hermione the password, convinced she was a spy coming to steal everything inside. Luckily, professor Flitwick, who taught that class, came just then and told her the password.

After she managed to find her classes, she realized that their location was the easy part. She thought arithmetic in muggle schools was hard. It was nothing compared to the classes she had here. Hermione managed to do well, but not with as much ease as at muggle schools. Three times a week, she was sent to the hot, damp greenhouses behind the school to study the many uses of various plants in potions and drafts. One plant started spitting acid at all of the students during of the lessons. One girl's hair got singed. Luckily, Hermione read about them. It was through a combined effort of her, Professor Sprout, and Neville to sooth the plant. It wasn't easy, but it did win Gryffindor fifteen points!

She had to stay up until ungodly hours every Wednesday to study the position of the stars and planets through telescopes and learn about their movement patterns in her Astronomy class. Hermione would've found it more interesting if she wasn't so tired.

The most boring class by far was History of Magic. It was originally taught by a human professor. However, one night he went to sleep and died. His ghost just left the body the next morning and taught as usual. Even Hermione would admit to having spaced out in his class one time. However, she was quick to go back to him during her break and made up all the notes.

Some of her classes were normal (well…to wizard standards), but the teachers were rather strange. Like her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, professor Quirrrell. The older kids had warned her that he was strange, but she never really understood just how strange one man could truly be. His whole room smelled strongly of garlic, apparently to ward off a vampire he met years ago that he was sure was going to come back to kill him. He always wore a strange, purple turban around his head. He claims it was a gift from a prince for warding away a zombie. Hermione was skeptical, however. It seemed that this man couldn't even squish a bug successfully, let alone defeat a terrifying zombie. Also, when asked to explain how he went about defeating the zombie, he suddenly looked nervous and began to babble on about the weather.

As the days passed, Hermione managed to relax knowing that she wasn't the only muggle-born. There were many kids in all the houses (except Slytherin) who had never had a drop of magic blood in their past generations. They started just the same as she did, which made her feel better. In fact, most of the time, she was doing better than many of the pureblood students. She had a silent victory when she managed to do better than Rose in transfiguration during their first lesson. In fact, she was the only one who managed to make any difference in turning their matchsticks into needles.

However, despite all the time she was spending with the kids in her house during lessons and meals, Hermione hadn't managed to make any friends yet. She hoped that the people at Hogwarts would be more like her. However, it was no different than at school. People had been avoiding her as much as possible. Even her roommates wouldn't talk to her, besides saying good morning and good night to be polite. She spent her free time in the library getting a head start on homework…alone. But, Hermione wasn't worried. She didn't make friends with Susan until three months into third grade.

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Friday morning was a big day. They were going to have double potions with Snape. They Gryffindors said nothing but mean things about him. Based on what she overheard, Professor Snape was a slimy git who never washed his hair and favored Slytherins, seeing as he was head of their house. He always found excuses to take points from Gryffindor, and was just an all around jerk.

Rose, however, was very excited. She claimed that, "we finally get to see how this dump _should_ be organized." She meant, of course, seeing the Slytherins. You had to be pureblood to get in, apparently, and they hated Gryffindors. She was the only one who really likes them, which made Hermione automatically loathe them.

However, the rumors passed around about Snape made him seem like Superman compared to who he really was. He taught potions in the dungeons. The dungeons themselves were cold, but his room for some reason felt ten times colder. Not to mention, the organs and rats floating in jars and containers didn't exactly help lighten the mood. Then, once you got past the scenery, there was the man himself. He had this sneer that shot right through you and make you shake…not in the good way. It was like he was looking right through you to find your faults, it scared her. His hair fell around him in a slimly matter like it was never washed since 1964. Not to mention, it was clear as day that he favored the Slytherins and loathed the Gryffindors with every fiber of his eternal being.

Just like Professor Flitwick did, Professor Snape began by taking attendance. And, like Flitwick, he stopped at Harry's name. He read it once, glanced at Harry, and sneered in a way that made Hermione shiver.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new—_celebrity_." A few of the Slytherin boys laughed in the back round. Hermione turned her head to see that it was Draco Malfoy along with his two ape friends. Hermione had a bad feeling about Malfoy from the start. But, it wasn't like there wasn't anything she could do about it. She watched as he finished taking attendance. Once finished, he placed the parchment down and looked up at the class. His eyes made Hermione nervous. They were so dark and lifeless, just like the rest of him.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Professor Snape began to say. He spoke very softly, but no one missed a word. Hermione had a feeling that this man didn't need to do much to keep a class quiet and in control. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep though human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, ever stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually teach."

The silence that followed this speech was deathly. Hermione was a little offended by that last part. She was _not_ a dunderhead. And, while she wasn't a fan of the teacher, she was eager to prove that she was not like his old students.

"Potter!" he shouted. Anyone who was even _thinking_ about slouching shot instantly straight. Harry looked as if he wanted to melt. "What would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Asphodel…wormwood…I know this one!_ Hermione's hand shot up faster than her brain could comprehend the answer. Step one in operation I-am-_not_-a-dunderhead was underway. However, Snape completely ignored Hermione's hand, and only looked at Harry's dumbfounded face.

"I don't know, sir."

Snape looked pleased at Harry's answer, and sneered again. "Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

_This one is obvious! _Hermione's hand was begging to hurt from stretching it so much. She didn't leave her seat, but her hand was as high up as it could get without doing so. Once again, in the back of the room, she heard Malfoy and his ape friends laughing again.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

_Professor Snape does have a point, he really should've. Then he would know these things. Well…maybe he did, but he should've read them better!_ Even though Hermione agreed with Snape, she still didn't like him. True, Harry should've read. But, why wouldn't he ask anyone else these questions? People who _knew_ them. Hermione used her other hand to clench the elbow of her upraised one to keep it steady, seeing as it was staring to quiver. But, Snape was still ignoring her. Having no other choice, she just watched as Snape looked into Harry's green eyes with such…_disgust_. Did he just not like Harry because he was famous? Was there something more to it?

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

_Oh, I can't take it anymore!_ Hermione sprang out of her seat, her hand still upraised, only feet from the dungeon ceiling. A few heads turned, but she didn't pay attention. If he would notice that _she_ knew the answer, he had better now.

"I don't know. I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?" He said it quietly, like he was afraid that Snape would slap her across the face, but at least he said it. A few people laughed, and Seamus winked at Harry. Hermione couldn't help but softly smile.

"Sit down," Snape snapped at Hermione. She almost fell into her seat. He was even more terrifying when he was directing statements at you, if that was at all possible. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known of the Draught of the Living Dead. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a got and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well, why aren't you copying that down?" Hermione, who had quill and parchment out since the start, began to scribble furiously. Most other people had to take a minute to rummage through their messy bags to find their quills and parchment.

"And a point will be taken down from Gryffindor House for you cheek, Potter." Snape sneered at Harry and went to write something on the board. Hermione frowned, but didn't say anything.

As the class progressed, things didn't seem to get much better for Gryffindor. He placed everyone in pairs (Hermione worked with Diana) and they made a simple potion to cure boils. With Hermione's help, they managed to complete every step just like it said to on the board. Of course, Snape didn't notice at all. And, if he did, he sure didn't mention anything. All he did was drabble on about how well that Malfoy freak was doing ("Look as how well he stirs the slugs. See the acid green smoke? Very good, Malfoy"). It was enough to make her sick.

Neville, and Hermione still wasn't sure how, managed to melt Seamus' cauldron and send potion spewing all over the floor. Within seconds, everyone was on top of their stools in hopes of avoiding getting any on their ankles. However, poor Neville managed to get it all over him, causing boils to pop all over him.

"Idiot boy!" Snape was _not_ happy (well…happy for him) as he cleared the potion away with a wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville was unable to answer, and just stood there as about ten boils appeared on his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing." Seamus wiped a trace of Snape's spit off his face as he helped Neville out of the dungeons. Hermione couldn't help but feel jealous for a second…at least they got to leave early.

"You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

_That's not fair! _Hermione saw that Harry was about to object. She would've too, and probably would've had a better shot and convincing him. Neville doesn't get any points lost for almost flooding the place (though, she supposed, it really wasn't his fault, he just needed help), and Harry gets one off for not telling him what to do…even though he wasn't his partner? He was probably worried that he'd lose points for talking!

Just as he was about to say something, Hermione watched Ron kick him in the leg to shut him up. Why wouldn't he let Harry talk? But, after a moment, she realized that Snape probably wasn't one to contradict.

An hour later, Hermione walked out of the dungeon and to the main castle with everyone else. She had never been happier to leave a class in her life. The older kids in Gryffindor were right, Snape did hate them. But, he seemed to really have it out for Harry. When she saw Ron's red hair, she glanced over at him to see that he and Harry were discussing going to Hagrid's this afternoon. Where they really going to that man's house? Hermione _did_ see Harry's owl, Hedwig, deliver a letter to him, was that what it was about? No matter, it didn't concern her. Sighing, she made her way to History of Magic.

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At five o'clock, Hermione was inside the Gryffindor Common Room getting some homework done. Even though it was a Friday, she liked to get as much homework done that afternoon so she had the weekend to relax. However, that particular afternoon, she was finding it hard to concentrate. The view outside was so pretty, she just couldn't help but let her eyes wander to the window.

While she was gazing, she saw something that stopped her in her tracks. It wasn't really that big of a deal, just that idiot Ron Weasley with Harry. Even though she was high up on the seventh floor, she could make out Ron's annoying red hair from space. Curious, she sat on the windowsill to see what they were up to. They were making their way to a hut in the back. When they knocked on the door, Hermione saw Hagrid come out to greet them. But, the real thing that shocked her was the giant dog that followed him out. She was nowhere near them, but she was still a little startled. She then watched as they made their way inside. She couldn't see what they were doing once in the hut.

Hermione sighed. Everyone was becoming so comfortable. Friends have been chosen, and cliques have been formed. But, where was she in this picture? She glanced at the clock. She had a while until dinner, and she was kind of tired. Professor Binn's lecture could've put anyone to sleep today. So, she made her way up to her dorm room and slept until dinner.


End file.
